My earliest memory of the Rosary is wrapped in the scent of lavender, the whisper of beads passing through wrinkled fingers, the murmured Spanish of my abuelita Blanca.

We shared a room, and the Rosary filled my every evening. For the years that she lived with
us, she'd pray the Rosary nightly, the repeated "Dios te salve Maria, llena eres de gracia..." embedded into my sleep.

The
set prayers, rather than dulling with repetition, formed a cadence of
sweetness, a litany of love. My grandmother often told me that she loved
me, and I understood that the rosary was like her repeating to Jesus that she loved him.

One cannot say that enough.

Unfortunately, when
I grew older and further from the Lord, I stopped praying the rosary
nightly, stopped saying "I love you" to the One Who Loves Us Best.

“Some
people are so foolish that they think they can go through life without
the help of the Blessed Mother. Love the Madonna and pray the rosary,
for her Rosary is the weapon against the evils of the world today. All
graces given by God pass through the Blessed Mother.” (St. Padre Pio)

Yet, whenever I was in trouble and needed Him, I turned to the Rosary. Always. Sometimes, I prayed all the mysteries. Other times, just the set prayers. In great difficulties, I'd just clutch the rosary in my hand as tightly as if I were clutching Mama Mary's hand.
Thanks to the Holy Spirit's intervention, my husband's RCIA (Rite of
Christian Initiation of Adults) program, and the piles upon piles of
books I read, I returned to the Catholic Church in 1995 and have
remained in the family.

Since then, the Blessed Mother has truly become my mother. And through the Rosary, she teaches us, not to worship her, not to focus on her, but to turn to the main events in the life of Jesus and our relationship with Him.